


Unexpected

by orphan_account



Series: The Messes We Make [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Constipation, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Farting, Laxatives, M/M, Public Humiliation, Scat, Shit, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman catches Batman at an inopportune time. (aka Batman is caught shitting on a roof in Gotham.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> I give you the sort of sequel to the story you probably regretted reading. You could read this as a stand alone fic, but the previous fic is mentioned in this one so... Your choice. Anyway, if you like this kind of stuff expect more from me. Peace.

As a rule Bruce tried to eat healthily. He knew that an unhealthy diet would drastically affect his work, and he didn't exactly want to make adjustments to the Batsuit to give him more room around the midsection. 

But then he met Clark and all of that flew out the window. 

Clark liked stick to your ribs cooking. Hearty and filling, with carbs on the side. Clark saw no problem with a meat and two carb dinner. Clark didn't need to eat healthily, his body was kept in peak physical form just from the sun burning bright above him. Bruce however did not have that privilege. He had to work out daily, be aware of everything he put in his body, and take vitamin supplements on the side. 

Alfred had been away for his yearly holiday, so Bruce has had to deal with Clark’s cooking for the better part of a week. He could have cooked for himself, but it was so much easier to let Clark do it for him. Clark who had so much energy, and was willing to let Bruce pilfer half of his dinner. The only problem was that because of the diet shift, Bruce was constipated.

Badly.

He was putting on his suit, looking at his body in the full length mirror. Clark was lazing in bed reading the newspaper. Soon he would get up and make breakfast, which Bruce would have to eat half of out of politeness and put the rest back onto Clark’s plate. He had tried to go to the bathroom that morning, but no matter how much he pushed and strained nothing came. He felt uncomfortable, but it was bearable, nothing like the event which Clark and Bruce had been carefully avoiding talking about.

Bruce looked at him out the corner of his eye, Clark was sitting his knees pulled up close to his chest as he kept reading the newspaper. Bruce frowned. He had said they would do it again, but each time Clark mentioned it Bruce would tell him they would do it another day, until eventually Clark stopped mentioning it all together. It wasn’t like the office incident had put him off. He loved Clark no matter what. It was just that it had been a big step for Bruce going from farting on Clark’s chest, to shitting in a bin in his office. 

Bruce sighed and went into the bathroom. Before he could open the medicine cabinet Clark was behind him, his brows furrowed in concern. “What you getting?” He said eyeing Bruce’s hand which was hovering by the cabinet handle.

“A laxative Clark. I haven't been in a few days.” Bruce reached for it but Clark's hand gently stayed him. 

Clark’s other hand rested on his stomach and he leant his head down to nuzzle at Bruce's collar bone. “Why don't you give it a while. I doubt you wanna take a laxative right before you go to work.” Bruce frowned. Whilst he would be in his office most of the day, he did have one meeting, and if he knew his luck, the pill would decide to kick in just at the moment he would sit down for it. He sighed and put his hand down.

“Fine. But I want fruit for breakfast. I cannot stand anymore waffles.” Clark smiled ever so slightly against his collar bone, and Bruce huffed. Clark raced off leaving Bruce to stare at his large abdomen. He prodded the hard mass, and unlike last time where it strained just to get out of him, this time it seemed stuck, unwilling to move. Bruce sighed and went back into his room to continue getting dressed. 

When Clark returned it was with a bowl of pear, raspberries and blackberries submerged in a healthy splash of orange juice covering the fruit, Bruce accepted it gratefully. He ate the fruit as he himself read over the newspaper Clark had left on the bed. Clark went around the house tidying up any little bits and bobs before getting ready for work himself. “I better be off, Lois will have my head if i'm late again.” He kissed his cheek. “I’ll pick you up from work okay?” Bruce nodded and took another spoonful of fruit.

His own morning was uneventful. Occasionally he would think the fruit was working its magic and he would go to the bathroom and push, but then only a fart would come out and Bruce would sit a while longer just incase. After the 3rd trip Summer started giving him a look. “Are you okay, Mr. Wayne? Do you need me to get you anything?” Bruce shook his head and went back and sat down on his office chair. At lunch he hadn't requested anything. Yet Summer still entered with a bowl of lentil stew. She didn't say anything but when Bruce himself started Googling things to help with digestion he realized with a blush that Summer had given him a meal high in fibre. 

Great. So Summer was totally aware he was constipated, and it made Bruce reluctant to go to his bathroom. He should have installed it as an en suite, but nope. He decided that a little walk wouldn’t be too bad.

The rest of the afternoon he sat and played solitaire, only leaving when he had to attend his meeting, which luckily boiled down to his shareholders discussing everything and Lucius making all the decisions. Bruce just sat playing games on his phone. 

When he got back he kept an ear out for anything interesting happening in Gotham that Batman may need to look into further. One news reporter mentioned a new drug entering the streets and Gotham PD being unaware where the shipments were coming from, or even who was peddling it. Bruce looked at the clock and when five hit he got up from his chair and started getting all of his things together. By the time he got out of the building at ten past five, Clark was already there, waiting in one of Bruce's less illustrious cars. Bruce opened the door and flopped into the front seat with a frown. Clark inquired to his day.

“Oh, just great, I still haven't shit, and now a new drug is entering Gotham.” Clark himself frowned at the news but didn't offer anything in the way of comforting words, which Bruce was thankful for, anything the other man would have said at that point would have just made Bruce's mood worse.

When they had got home, Bruce started his afternoon workout session, hoping the running and movement would help jolt the compact mass inside him, and urge it to come out. After what felt like hours he decided to finally take the goddamn laxative.

He went for the medicine cabinet in the Batcave, which was more heavily stocked than the ones in all of the other bathrooms. He rummaged around before finally finding the box and popping one into his mouth and swallowing dry. Clark had made his way into the cave during the commotion, his lips drawn in a thin line. Bruce glowered at him and Clark held up his hands in mock surrender and changed into his Superman suit. 

“Something's going down in Metropolis. I don’t know when i'll be back but-” he frowned. “Be safe okay? Don’t do anything stupid.” Bruce scoffed, but nodded. Clark kissed him once chastely on the lips and he was gone. By the time he got to his computer he could already hear the radio chatter from Metropolis mentioning sightings of Superman. 

He looked around the monitors of his screen, looking for more evidence for this new drug. They were calling it ‘Crick’, apparently because along with visual hallucinations, it also gave you auditory ones as well, which sounded like crickets. Bruce’s focus was turned completely to the documents in front of him, reading and pouring over every word. He contacted Oracle who gave her stock response. ‘I haven't heard anything Bruce, but I’ll tell Dick to keep an ear out in Bludhaven and Tim to do the same in North Gotham.’ She paused. ‘You going on patrol tonight?’ his stomach gave an unhappy gurgle but Bruce murmured a noise of agreement. ‘Okay. I’ll keep you posted. Oh, wait a second...’ Bruce could hear a quiet static sound which he knew was Oracle talking on a separate line. Suddenly, all of the screens before Bruce went black and they all changed to show one large image of a warehouse. ‘Tim’s just spotted this. It fits with the geoanalysis, if the drug was being produced in Gotham this place seems like a likely candidate.’ Bruce nodded.

“I see.” He said finally. “Tell Tim to keep up surveillance on the building. I'll patrol the surrounding areas and switch out with him if we don't find anything else.” Oracle agreed and Bruce was up and putting on his Batsuit.

He has to suck himself in when he got to his chest piece and again another gurgle came from his waist. He glared down at himself before looking at the box and reading the instructions on it. It said that it would really kick in two hours after digestion. Bruce continued getting ready, mentally counting down in his head the time. He’d have to get back to the manor by 10pm, wxhich was ridiculously early for him. Most nights he left to patrol at ten. He sighed. He really should have waited to take it, but he couldn’t exactly take it back now. A low rumble and Bruce passed gas. He was in the car before he could think to much about his decisions. 

He patrolled around his usual areas, keeping his eyes open for deals. When he finally saw one going down he jumped onto the unsuspecting trio. One was the dealer, the other two confused teenagers. Bruce growled and the teenagers fled. The man tried to run but dropped the pills in the process. “Shit!” he yelled, and almost bent down to pick them up, but Batman stood before him coming closer and the man made the smarter decision to run away. 

Bruce caught up with him easily and held him against the wall. Another gurgle in his stomach and Bruce clenched. “Tell me where the Crick is coming from.” The man muttered some nonsense and Bruce pulled him from the wall and slammed him back against it. “Tell me. Now.” A small fart bubbled out from him, and for a moment Bruce was aghast. He afforded himself a quick glance around and hoped the smell of the dumpster would cover his own aroma.

“I don’t know! I’m just the dealer, I get it from this other guy, Tony is his name, I don’t know where he gets it from.” Bruce conceded. 

“Tell me where Tony lives.”

Bruce was soon off again, and when he was on a rooftop he let the build up of gas in him out. He let out a sigh of relief as what could only be described as a foghorn sounded from his ass. He could feel the mass in him shifting. He looked at the clocktower and noticed he still had an hour to make some progress. He kept moving. 

When he got to Tony’s apartment it was trashed. Well, not on purpose Bruce could surmise. It just seemed that Tony liked to live in squalor. Bruce made his way quietly through the apartment and when he walked past the bathroom he looked into it longingly. His stomach made a gently gurgle, as if tell him it's okay. Go. No one would know. Bruce had to gulp and look away. He didn’t want to think about it. 

Tony was in the living room drinking and occasionally yelling at the TV. Roughly Bruce placed both hands on either of his shoulders. Tony yelled and attempted to attack Bruce but before he could Bruce had him in a choke hold. Tony was quicker than Bruce gave him credit for and an elbow landed in his gut. Bruce clenched just in time to hold back the now more pliable load in him. He slammed Tony against the wall with more power than he perhaps should have. “Tell me where you get the Crick from!” Tony looked lost and startled and Bruce for a moment questioned his lead. Fuck, what if this wasn't Tony. Bruce almost let go but then the man started talking. 

It was in rushed Spanish and Bruce just nodded as the words came from the man. When he finally finished Bruce dropped him onto the floor and made his way towards where Tim was stationed. On the way he spoke to Barbara. ‘Red Robin was right, that is the location. I’m going to head back to the manor and research more about the gang and help him with surveillance’. Just then Bruce's com crackled.

‘Batman, Red Robin here. The location is heavily guarded, I was going to wait for your backup before dealing with it but I was whisked away by Impulse. I’m currently in Central City. Flash was asking for your help but I said you needed to handle the drug gang.’ Bruce actually grumbled. ‘Sorry, but I have to deal with Flash and Impulse’s really bad puns. I’m pretty sure you got the better end of the bargain with some gang members. Plus this will be a piece of cake for you. Signing off.’’ And just like that the comm went quiet and Bruce was left with Barb.

‘You just can’t get the help these days….’ She joked and Bruce huffed a laugh for her sake. ‘But he is right, Tim is not equipped to deal with this kind of thing. It’s better this way.’; She signed off as well and Bruce was finally able to let out the fart he had been holding. He was almost at the warehouse when the cramps started. He groaned and clutched his stomach. He hobbled over to the edge of the roof where Tim had set up some surveillance equipment. Bruce called Barbara. 

‘Oracle, I’m going to do some surveillance myself before I go in.’ Barbara made a small noise. 

‘You sure? I mean Tim’s been keeping me up to date and informed. He says there is only about ten guards top. You could handle that no problem, even with one hand tied behind your back.’ Bruce grunted, his anus already working to push out the mass in him.

‘I still want to be prepared.’ 

‘Suit yourself.’ She said before signing off again. 

He sighed and an explosion of gas bursts out of him, loud and wet and Bruce actually whimpered. He had no choice. He hobbled over to the far end of the roof and began the arduous task of removing his suit. A cramp attacked him violently and Bruce’s hands began to shake as he reached for his crotch and began fiddling with the latches there. They required precision to remove and Bruce had to use all of his willpower to will his hands into cooperating. Finally he got it off and squatted down, but then he felt a familiar feeling surround him.

“Howdy.” Came Clark’s far too chirpy call. Bruce whipped his head around to stare at him. Clark looked effortlessly beautiful as he hung in the Gotham night. His cape billowing behind him with the wind. Bruce’s own cape was covering him from this angle, but Clark must have seen what he was about to do. “So the laxative worked?” Bruce shuddered and nodded. He could feel his asshole opening as Clark floated lazily around him until he was sitting cross legged in front of Bruce. “Golly. Look at you...”

“Clark.” He warned. “Now is not the time, I need to be handling that building of drug dealers and-” Bruce’s stomach cramped. “Oh God….” He bared down on the shit, and for a horrifying moment Bruce thought it hadn't worked, that all the pain he’s been feeling was just trapped gas, but then he could feel it. Moving in him, so fucking slowly. Bruce stopped and panted, before pushing again. He could feel his asshole spread wider to accommodate the shit and he kept going. His eyes were closed and squeezed together tightly, but Bruce knew Clark was looking at him. All. Over. Luckily his suit afforded him privacy from Clark, by having a layer of lead within it. However at that moment, his crotch and ass were available for Clark to oggle at all he wanted. 

The log was still coming out slow and hard as it spreaded his ass even move. Bruce whined and bent his knees up and down ever so slightly in an attempt to help his asshole push out the load. He looked at Clark briefly, and his eyes were wholly focused on his ass area. His hand was by his crotch but instead of being subtle, Bruce could see the strokes his hand was making along his dick. Bruce kept pushing and eventually the log fell out onto the roof top under him. “Fuck!” He said finally. His bowels feeling lighter. He looked down at the brick under him, and allowed himself to looks mildly impressed before he felt the next load tried to come out. Bruce groaned and went back to pushing. This one was coming out a bit easier, but Bruce tried to squat more and spread his asshole even wider. He could hear Clark panting more now. He looked up again, and saw Clark had put his hand down his front and had started stroking his dick in earnest, a wet patch already starting to come through his red underwear. Bruce grunted and kept his eyes on him as he bobbed a bit more in place. He could see Clark biting his lip. He moaned along with Bruce when the second piece broke off. Bruce had a few seconds to think before an incredibly intense cramp came across him. “Oh Jesus.” He muttered. 

It felt like lava was running out of his ass. The sound of it in his ears seemed to startle Bruce. It sounded like lumpy porridge was falling from his ass, and Bruce, despite the awful shame he felt moaned loudly at the feeling. Bruce rocked again to try and ride through the cramp, but his ass grazed the pile underneath him and he actually jolted in surprise. He could hear Clark gasp and Bruce kept going. The stream didn't seem to be lessening and Bruce’s legs were starting to give out. He put his arms out and tried to take some of the pressure off his burning calves, but by moving, his ass hole was now pressed directly onto his steamy pile of shit. It sputtered as the shit from Bruce’s ass collided with the pile. Bruce kept pushing and looked at Clark. He could hear him whine as he craned his neck to try and get a better look. 

Bruce suddenly felt cool night air on his ass as he realised Clark had moved and pushed his cape away from his ass. He was behind him and Bruce turned to look at him. He was biting his lip as he kept up his frantic pace on his dick. Bruce feeling slightly malicious stopped, using what muscles his asshole had to clamp down on the shit pouring from him.

Clark looked at him wide eyed. “Why’d you stop? You still have shit in you. I can see it.” Bruce tried to put on his best in control voice as he spoke. 

“I need to carry on with the mission. I have emptied my bowels enough to continue.” Which was a total lie. Even as he said this his asshole was puckering and a dribble left him. Clark kept moving the hand on his dick, but it was clear to Bruce that he wasn’t happy about it. 

“Bruce please. I know you still gotta go and I’m so close. Please!” Bruce wondered if he could actually stop right then. But a fart left him and the chunky stream continued and he heard Clark sigh in manic relief. “Thank you Bruce, thank you!” Bruce started to push down hard at points causing loud farts to sputter through the stream, and without fail Clark’s breath would hitch in response. Clark came after another minute of this. Bruce didn’t see it, but he did hear Clark’s yell and moan. Bruce eventually did finish and the pile of shit was now cradling his ass and Bruce made a move to get up but Clark stopped him. 

“Lemme clean you up, babe.” Bruce stayed as he was and let Clark lift his ass into the air, away from the pile. He pulled out a packet of tissues and started to wipe Bruce’s thoroughly destroyed ass. Bruce leant forward and rested his head on his arms as Clark wiped. Bruce sighed at the feeling, and then Clark’s tongue was on him and Bruce froze. 

“Clark…” He said slowly. 

“I wanna make you feel good. Like you made me feel. Bruce, please…” He said softly, and Bruce almost conceded but he looked up and saw the warehouse. 

“Clark, I need to work. Clean me up and we can have sex when we get home.” Clark growls and picked up another tissue and kept cleaning. Bruce noticed him avoiding his hole and inquired about it and Clark just said, he’s 'going to give it the special treatment'.

Another lick this time directly on his shit covered hole. Bruce gasped and Clark began licking in earnest. Bruce squirmed but didn't try to stop him. It felt so good, and when his stomach made a gentle rumble Clark started to rub Bruce’s stomach, encouraging the gas in him to come out. Bruce farted, right into Clark’s waiting mouth and Bruce could feel his erection beginning to rise up again. Bruce mustered up what ever self control he had and told Clark to stop.

Like a puppy being told off Clark quickly finished wiping off Bruce. Once cleaned Bruce got up and surveyed the damage he’d done. “Good Lord…” He muttered, eyeing the large pile. Clark looked at it too, and then back at Bruce.

“To think all of that was inside you.” Bruce nodded affirmatively and began attaching his suit back together. He felt great, better than he has in a while.

“This is why I need to stop eating your food Clark. It blocks me up.” Bruce looked at Clark and if possible the wounded puppy look intensified. “I mean, I love your cooking, but I need fibre and vegetables in my diet. If I don’t I-” Bruce gestures to the pile, and as Clark wasn’t the best actor in the world he couldn't hide the fact that Bruce being constipated a bit more was not something he would mind.

Clark got up and Bruce realised the pile of shit was gone. “I got a bag and cleaned it all up. It’s in a dumpster in South Gotham.” Bruce nodded once and coughed to clear his throat. 

“Look I said we would try, this, again. And we have-” Clark looked at him and pressed his lips together. 

“Bruce you don’t have to say it, I know. You don’t wanna do this again, and that’s fine. I just wanna thank you for even doing this in the first place…” He noticed Clark start to drift upward and Bruce pulled him back down with his arm.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Clark looked at him curiously. “I don’t mind doing this with you Clark. I just don't want to sacrifice the needs of Gotham for yours.” Bruce looked over the city skyline. “If it had been a hostage situation, and not just a drug bust. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything to help. I need to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.” Bruce looked back at Clack. “Not whilst I’m Batman. Bruce and Brucie Wayne can manage it, but Batman can’t. Okay?” Clark regarded him strangely and for a minute Bruce thought he’d fucked up massively. He has never been good at expressing himself properly and he knew it would bite him in the ass eventually. However instead of anger or sadness, Clark embraced him. 

“Of course honey.” Bruce returned the embrace albeit slightly awkwardly, and then Clark is drifting off again.

“Uh uh uh... “ Clark raised his eyebrows. “I had to shit on a rooftop because of you least you could do is help me deal with that.” He gestured at the large building behind him.

Clark smiled and nodded. “Anything for you babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edited it slightly to fix typos and tense shifts. Hope you enjoyed my lovelies. ;)


End file.
